I sit on the most uncomfortable chair in my life, a glossy hunk of wood resting between my legs and feet. The room seemingly hotter than normal, and sweat began to accumulate on my forehead. My heart beats faster as the test moved closer and closer to me. In front of me, a beautiful melodic sound of cello fills the air. Every note sounds of perfection. Each bow movement precisely on time. I sit back and watch, hands silently practicing in fear. The last note sweeps across the strings, perfectly in tune. I tremor as I think of my own fate when the time comes.

An orchestra test. Playing in front of the crowd of faces who judge me with every stare. I wish in my last few moments of well being that the lunch bell will ring and my fate will be pushed to another day. Alas, I am not so lucky. All eyes are staring, peering into my soul. I don’t know what to do. I’ve suddenly forgotten how to read the music or play the notes. Valencia stares at me in confusion, waiting for me to begin.

In a moment of absolute terror, I place my hand on the shiny fingerboard and stare up at the stand.

Each note horrible off. Each bowing screeches at the wrong time. Intensely the cello weeps at the lack of skill and fails to comply. The exertion of my efforts are meaningless in the face of this failure. A failure. I know it. My hand trembles and warms, I can’t even keep my hand from sliding off. In a burst of absolute humiliation, I place my instrument down. I haven’t finished the song. I haven’t finished the measure. I stare up at my teacher with wells in my eyes. I can’t finish.

I know I could play it before. I practiced for hours. I practiced until the point of where my hand bled. But it wasn’t enough. The staring, the judging, I couldn’t practice for that. I just couldn’t stop myself.

Then it happened. Moments later a panic attack consumes me. Sitting in a chair, hyperventilating, the feeling of breathlessness consumed me. My head a swarm of disappointment and failure. My body followed the lead of my hands, every part of me shaking out of control. And then I felt it.

Heated hands wrap around my shoulders, embracing me, calming me. A sweet smell consumes the cynical air. Comfort overwhelms my being, and I realize I have been absorbed in a hug by three angels. Their encouraging voices lie to me, telling me how they “thought” the test went. I knew their words were fallacies, but I couldn’t have cared less at that moment. I felt loved in every sense of my being and all my thoughts pertained to my relationships to these people. And in this moment of serenity, I could look at their faces, I could see eyes full of care and respect, and I knew that I mattered, on no matter how small of a scale.